Adrian stared at the employment file until the letters seemed to separate from one another.
Marital status: Widowed.
Spouse: Daniel Keane.
Daniel Keane.
He knew that name.
Not from the newspapers.
Not from business.
Not from some distant acquaintance he had met once at a charity dinner and forgotten.
He knew it from his family.
Or, more precisely, from the way his family had stopped saying it.
Four years earlier, Adrian had returned unexpectedly to his parents’ home after a construction meeting in Providence had been canceled. He remembered entering through the side door shortly after nine in the evening and hearing voices from the library.
His father had been speaking.
So had Adrian’s aunt Caroline.
And someone else.
Arthur Bellamy, the attorney who had represented the Whitmore family for as long as Adrian could remember.
Adrian had only caught a few words.
“…Daniel Keane should never have been put
